


In the Breaking Light

by leigh57



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2366927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leigh57/pseuds/leigh57
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol wears Daryl's shirt. No seriously, that's the summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Breaking Light

**Author's Note:**

> So, [silver-89](http://tmblr.co/mIj7Q59prCuvX72Nl6_RvNQ) drew [this](http://silver-89.tumblr.com/post/89128203842/for-leigh57-per-her-request-to-see-carol-in) as a response to what I said in [this post](http://leigh57.tumblr.com/post/89118935734/is-there-any-specific-article-of-clothing-that-you), and basically it was all downhill from there. This is so ludicrously fluffy it should be a chinchilla. Sorry?
> 
> The ficlet title is from Vienna Teng’s ‘The Breaking Light,’ which is an amazingly beautiful song.

He woke up feeling strange in a way he couldn’t even identify at first.

Eyes closed, still not completely conscious, he tried to harness his thoughts and figure out what the hell was happening. After a couple seconds, he realized what was different.

He didn’t feel like shit.

He felt good, rested, refreshed.

No wonder his body was confused.

He squinted toward the warm light slanting through the room’s only window, and his eyes landed on Carol, standing in the sunshine with her head resting on the smooth oak wood of the window casing.

She was wearing the shirt she’d taken off him last night and … absolutely nothing else.

Daryl let himself stare at her for a minute, flashes of memory slipping back into his consciousness. The first safe house they’d found in something like three weeks. A gas stove. A fucking bathtub. (He could feel soap bubbles on his palms, hear Carol’s tired words as his fingertips massaged her scalp. _That feels amazing. I’m adding it to my list of your hidden talents._ ) Warm food in his stomach. Enough room for everyone to spread out. Doors that closed and latched…

Carol’s body under his, the soft skin on her neck against his lips, her warm hitched breath on his shoulder, the sounds she made when he touched her.

"You stole my favorite shirt." His words came out rough-edged with sleep.

She turned to look at him, hair all crazy, face still pink from being pressed into the pillow. Raising an eyebrow, she gave him a flirty smirk that made his insides feel funny. “At the moment, it’s your _only_ shirt.”

"Yeah, so who said you could borrow it, hmm?" Now that she was facing him, he could see that she’d only done up one of the buttons, leaving gaps and shadows and so much he liked looking at that his eyes couldn’t decide where to settle.

"You weren’t using it," she countered. He couldn’t argue, given that he was buck naked under the thin cotton sheet. "You missed the sunrise," she added. "Most perfect one I’ve seen in weeks. I wish I could’ve taken a picture."

"S’okay. I like my view better." He let his eyes dip over her barely covered breasts before flicking his gaze back to her face.

"Are you gonna come take it back or what?" she asked. The quirk at the edges of her mouth undermined any attempted conviction in her challenge. He just watched her eyes, her expression as the tiny grin transformed into a full-blown smile, and he realized that in his entire life, he’d never once dreamed someone would look at him the way she was looking at him right now.

Like she didn’t want anything else in the world.

He swallowed and shifted, trying to get his mind back on track. “Maybe I will. What do I gotta do?”

"Take it off me."

His nerves sparked, anticipation and want, but he kept his tone light. “That’s it?”

"Never know. Might be harder than you think."

He couldn’t muffle the low vibration of laughter that shook his chest, even though he knew she’d chosen the words on purpose. “I’ll show you how hard it is.”

She shrugged, crinkling her eyes in that way that made him _crazy_. “Promises, promises.”

"That’s it." With a quick cautious glance at the closed door, he shoved the sheet aside and closed the distance between them in three strides, pulling her close, letting his palms wander up the back of her thighs and pushing aside the hem of the shirt to trail his fingertips over the curve of her ass. Finally, he moved his hands around front and released the single button. He pushed the shirt off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, kissing the edge of her jaw as he drew her whole body into his.

She shivered. “I thought you wanted your shirt.”

"I’ll get it in a second," he mumbled, completely unable to resist her half-parted lips.

She kissed him back, her mouth hot and soft and open, then whispered against his lips as she gave him a gentle push toward the bed. “Bet you won’t.”


End file.
